In My Veins
by JustAnother13Lover
Summary: Hired to break the heart of a heartbreaker, Beca Mitchell must plan out how she'll go about changing her subject's promiscuous and womanising ways. But it's not long before she finds out that nothing ever really goes as planned.


_**Disclaimer: **__All publicly recognisable characters, settings, songs, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author (me!). The author (me, again!) is in no way associated with the owners, creators or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

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**CHAPTER ONE**

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_Nothing goes as planned  
Everything will break  
People say goodbye  
In their own special way_

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A diminutive bell tolled from above the door of a quaint little coffee shop, signalling the arrival of a new customer.

The café, shoehorned between two equally tall and narrow shops of comparable shabbiness, was located on the outskirts of Atlanta. A small chalkboard hung from the ceiling of the deep porch at the shop's façade with the words '_Coffee is my daily grind'_ written in an elegant script. It made some of those who passed by smile, while some others roll their eyes at the witty pun.

The brunette who had just entered the building, however, had done neither. Her face was expressionless; there was not even a trace of annoyance as a gust of icy wind had followed her through door, causing the hair to flick forwards in one sudden surge. She simply closed the door in one quick motion, ran her fingers through the hair at the top of her head and then began to weave her way through the empty tables.

It came as no surprise to the brunette as she noticed there was nobody to be seen. There wasn't even a baristas behind the counter. She pulled out her phone. The white numbers on the screen flashed: _01:24_. Anyone who took the time to observe the café, placed in a rather secluded area away from any main roads, would notice the unusual hours – the shop was just as likely to be open at half one in the morning in the middle of the week as would any of the nightclubs in the area on a Saturday night.

The female moved further back into the dimly lit shop, studying the small pendulum lamps, which hung from the exposed rafters. The café was definitely not modern, but the slightly crumbling brick walls and outdated furniture seemed to give the setting a much more welcoming feel. Behind a wooden pillar, adjoined to a large antique radio, was the table she was looking for. And already seated in the chair further away from the brunette, sat an older woman.

At first, the seated woman wasn't aware of her company. She was too engrossed with twisting the green shawl in her lap, her eyes unmoving. It was apparent that the older woman, who looked to be in her early forties, was nervous.

The brunette cleared her throat from the other side of the small coffee table, causing the seated woman to jump. As her eyes fell upon the brunette, she stood up and offered her hand to shake, not before placing the shawl on the side of the table.

"You must be the same Beca that I spoke briefly to, over the phone," the woman acknowledged, settling back down into the cushioned chair.

With a firm nod, Beca confirmed the woman's statement, sliding into the other chair on the opposite side of the table. "And you must be Mrs. Beale," she said, receiving a smile.

Beca watched Mrs. Beale shuffle in her seat, clearly anxious about the entire meeting. "Don't worry, Mrs. Beale. Nobody will come here at this late hour," she reassured. "I'm sorry about not being able to meet at any other time. My flight landed only a few hours ago."

Mrs. Beale's relaxed slightly as she was reminded that not many people venture out for coffee at that time in the morning, but her hands wrapped around that green shawl once again and her eyes avoided the brunette's. Beca decided to continue talking.

"Who will it be?" Beca asked.

"It's… my daughter," Mrs. Beale finally admitted. Those words had surprised Beca, but she managed to keep a neutral face. She had only ever dealt with male subjects. The older woman reached into the bag that was tucked under her chair and pulled out a brown envelope and handed it over to Beca, before continuing, "Her name is Chloe Beale. She's eighteen and this will be her last year at Barden."

Beca nodded in encouragement to continue when Mrs. Beale paused.

"I… Well... Chloe is such a bright person. She really is. She's both smart and beautiful – and I'm not just saying that because I'm her mother. But she's throwing it all away, building herself a bad reputation. I can't stand seeing her doing this to herself – and to everyone else. She sleeps with practically everyone, both male and _female_," Mrs. Beale shuddered, "She _never_ makes commitments. She enjoys messing with hearts, playing her little games, _flirting_ with the _girls_… She breaks them, and then throws them away like yesterday's newspaper. Yet they still come back for more. I can't- I just… It has to stop. With your help, she may be able to finally move on from her idiocy and find a decent person to settle down with. She needs someone; a good man in her life."

Beca sat and listened intently to what Mrs. Beale had said. It was now clear why she seemed so nervous; it was her own daughter that she was proposing as a subject. If her daughter were to find out, it would result in a pandemonium that would undoubtedly break the bond between their whole family.

"Someone's explained to you how this will work, right?" the brunette asked, reaching into the thin package, pulling out a few sheets of printed-paper and a single photograph.

It was suddenly obvious why people risked their hearts for the girl in the staring back at her on paper; Chloe Beale was stunning. Even Beca couldn't help but admire the way her red locks caressed her light toned face, which held such a carefree smile. Her eyes were a startling blue and held a rather mysterious gleam. It was beautiful, but Beca wasn't completely fooled.

Chloe Beale was a heartbreaker, screwing with people and their hearts. As beautiful as she may be on the outside, to Beca, intentionally causing pain like that was unforgivable.

"Yes," Mrs. Beale replied. "But, I just wanted to go over everything again, if that's okay?"

"Well, I usually adapt to my clients needs. From what you've told me, Chloe needs to change," there was a slight pause before the Beca repeated the all-too-familiar words: "I'll weave myself into her life and become the person she could only ever dream about getting. I'll have her fall for me and then, when she's at her most vulnerable stage, break her heart as she had to so many others. I can't give a definite amount of time until it's done, because every subject is different. It'll hurt her, but the success rate has been a hundred percent so far. Chloe Beale will be a changed person after meeting me," Beca explained with an aura of confidence. She knew it was much harder than it sounded, but she had to convince the older woman that she could pull it off.

There was a sniffle from the other side of the table. Mrs. Beale cleared her throat with a small cough, before finally asking, "Have... Have you ever fallen for, or felt anything more than you should have, for any of your subjects?"

"No," the simple answer was icy. Beca could've sworn the other woman flinched at the harsh tone. With a sigh, she knew she had to explain further. "It's much more difficult to fall for them than you'd think. Not because they aren't capable of loving someone - most of them really are capable - but more to do with the fact that I have never been myself with them. I've always had to," the brunette paused, searching for the right word, "_Mould_ myself to appeal to them. It's as though I'm taking on another identity; I'll be so focused on keeping up the act, trying to get them to fall for me, that I won't be able to relax enough to fall for any of them - not that I would want to. I try to keep things as professional as possibly."

Mrs. Beale let out a slow sigh of relief. But as soon as she had let it out, her cheeks began to blush a light shade of red, which turned a shade darker every passing second. Her eyebrows furrowed, as if she wanted to say something, but the moment she opened her mouth, she had closed it again. Her eyes looked shifted around the room as she tried to find something else to think about, hoping that the brunette hadn't noticed.

But Beca had, raising her own eyebrow. "Is there something else you wanted to ask?"

Mrs. Beale blushed another shade of red, but managed a small nod. Her reply was hesitant.

"I... I just... This is going to be personal, but... Do you sleep with your subjects?" Mrs. Beale shuffled uncomfortably in her chair. "I mean, I guess it's okay if y-you do. It's just part of the plan to make her change, right?" the woman asked, almost sounding pleading.

Beca's eyes widened. But considering that it was her next potential subject's mother, fishing for whether or not the brunette was planning on sleeping with her daughter, she had every right to feel surprised.

"Um, with some of the previous cases, yes," Beca replied honestly. "It all depends, usually on the measure of time. Most cases last for a good couple of months or longer. I can't say for sure if it'll happen, since it also depends on the other person. But generally speaking, the act - as it provides that intimacy and trust needed for humans to connect on a level that may lead them to fall in love - will happen eventually. I, of course, aim to postpone that until a later date, to ensure that their feelings are less to do with lust and more to do with other feelings," Beca explained, hoping that it would calm the tensed woman opposite her. Mrs. Beale still looked a worried. "Although… having said that, I'd like to make it clear that you are in no way paying for me to have sex with your daughter. As you had said before, Chloe needs help realising that she's doing the wrong thing. You're paying me to help Chloe get back on track, to show herself who she really is and make her believe in commitment. I'm sure she'll learn to love someone who will look after her."

Mrs. Beale, although still a little embarrassed, seemed to relax. If there were even the slightest chance that her daughter could change, then Mrs. Beale would agree to whatever Beca thought were necessary.

"So," the older woman began, playing with the green shawl in her hands, "How are you going to go about doing this?"

Beca's attention turned to the printed text that was laid out in front of her, skimming over Chloe's classes and hobbies. Her eyebrows furrowed as she concentrated, piecing together small ideas that could eventually help change Chloe Beale.

"I think," she began, as she collected the sheets of paper to slide back into the brown envelope. "I might just have an idea."

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**_Song: _**_'In My Veins' by Andrew Belle_**_  
YouTube: _**_/watch?v=KJIt-mzFPG0_

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_**A/N (21/07/13): **__Um, yeah, so this stupid website was being a complete a*hole and decided to replace this story with one of my other ones, but I foolishly kinda forget to save it in the docs on this stupid website so all the previous A/N's have gone poooof.. -_-_

_I'm pretty certain this was the latest chapter version that I had put up before, but I'm not entirely sure. Hopefully it is._

_Anyway, this story will be continued, though I'm not sure when I'll be posting up the next chapter. Thanks for being so patient, whoever's still out there._


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